


Flu Game prt 2

by judesrivers



Category: Men's Basketball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, NBA finals 2019, Sickfic, but he’s suffering in this one so, death scare, food poisoning or stomach flu we’ll never know, im new to the nba fandom(?), klay is protective and he doesn’t know what to do, light humor, my first nba fic, oh yeah everyone is accepting, so i don’t even know, steph is cute when he’s sick, steph is sick as hell, these two need more fics, yeah this is pure klephen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24297616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judesrivers/pseuds/judesrivers
Summary: On the day of Game 2 of the NBA finals. Klay is awoken to Stephen Curry breaking into his hotel suite in Canada. Instead of the usual protocol, he comes to find out that Steph is extremely ill.
Relationships: Stephen Curry/Klay Thompson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	Flu Game prt 2

**June, 2nd 2019. 2:22 AM.**

Klay aggressively slung the thick covers off of him, and sat up in the bed somewhat on edge. 

Tired, extremely tired. That’s what he was. 

The only reason why he seemed to have sprung up in the bed was from hearing obnoxious noises. It did not make sense to Klay, not sure that security would ever allow someone to break into his hotel suite, but at the same time why at this time of night? 

Although Klay was tired, he stood up having his bare feet touch the cold floor causing shivers to rack his tired frame. Despite it being in early June, Canada was at its chilliest around this time. Not exactly cold, but he’d still depend on wearing hoodies whenever he had to go out. 

Klay was rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, swaying around groggily in his same stance in front of his bed. Until he heard another clang which shook him into full consciousness. “Holy shit,” He muttered his first words into the night as he stepped forward, wanting to get near a light switch. 

The clang was followed by a wretch and coughing, as if someone was throwing up their actual guts in his kitchen which was down the hall. 

Out of everyone booked in the same building, it just had to be Klay’s suite to get chosen. Things like this just fall into his lap without any repercussions. He had no idea why, maybe it was just his blunt way of going through life or maybe it’s because he’s been his best throughout the whole season. It just happened to be a coincidence where he also ends up having the most weirdest things happen to him. 

Klay flicked on one of the dim lights as he headed into the kitchen. It was too late for bright lights, and plus, he was not trying to risk being called out in the media for being up at 2 in the morning with a finals game in which his franchise depends on. That’d be an awkward avalanche of questions to deal with, since he knows, everyone knows that both teams are being watched like owls. 

Another round of coughs made his skin crawl, and that’s when he noticed the refrigerator was opened. 

“The fuck?” Klay croaked, intentionally meaning for it to startle the intruder. Oh, and It did. 

He watched in somewhat amusement as another clang shook the area, then a harsh thud resulted simultaneously with a weakly uttered; “Shit.” 

Klay recognized that tone, even though it was hushed, he knew who it was. “Steph? Is that you?” He asked, a new wave of exhaustion ripping through him as he took in the fact that his boyfriend broke into his suite. 

“No, it’s uh- Draymond.” 

Klay swore that Stephen was the most intelligent-dumbass he ever fell in love with. With that being said, he slowly padded his way over towards the scene and used the dim lights of the kitchen to make out Steph laying on the kitchen floor, right on his backside. The older man was clutching onto a unopened can of ginger ale, and a brown bag of honey combed graham crackers. Klay noticed that Steph was wearing his (Klay’s) old warriors hoodie, which was obviously too big on him, and basketball shorts with long black men’s socks, and with under armour slides. 

“Babe, what’s the—“ Klay gestured his hand about, attempting to find the question he was looking for. He noticed that his voice was strained in sheer determination to not let out a laugh at how random this was. “What’s the issue here?” Finally, he queried while leaning against the refrigerator door that was still opened. 

Steph had struggled to sit all the way up, placing the ginger ale down onto the floor to force himself up. His head was spinning, and his stomach was lurching nauseously. “I’m just hungry.” Steph murmured, scared of speaking too freely with the feeling of something crawling up his stomach and the back of his throat. 

Just from the miserable sound of Steph’s voice, the younger man closed the refrigerator and immediately leveled down to Steph in concern. “You sound hoarse, are you alright?”

Steph removed the graham crackers from his grasp, and wrapped his arm around his aching stomach. “No- Klay help-” He whined, spurred on by the burning nausea. 

Steph knew that there was no use in lying now. It’d take too much work, and the last thing he wanted right now was fucking work. Which made him think about their game which happens in a couple of hours, fucking hell. Steph elicited a gasp and haunched over, clasping one hand on his mouth as his eyes became widened. 

Klay immediately pounced, lifting Steph up carefully and rushing him to the bathroom. “I got you, I got you, hold on.” He chanted as Steph began to choke and wretch violently into his hand. 

Shit, shit, shit. Were the words coursing through Klay’s head. Steph would barely get sick, and when he did, it would be the most painful experience for literally everyone since Steph was the most optimistic one at the moment. Even with Kevin’s calf injury, he kept on a happy face for everyone when people doubted that Kevin would make a return any time soon. 

Klay rubbed on his lovers backside as Steph vomited into the toilet, feeling himself get sick when he noticed how much Steph was shaking uncontrollably. He wondered what did he eat before going to bed? There surely wasn’t a party that went on because they fell short to the Raptors in Game 1. Plus, everyone was so unusually tired when they returned to the hotel building and there was no doubt that the team succumbed into immediate sleep. Even Steve was too tired to give them a lecture about how they should have took more care of the ball, and how the defense needs to be more guarded. Instead he dismissed everyone with a harsh, “Don’t want a recap of 2016.” which earned him an awkward side eye from both Steph and Kevin. 

To be honest, that statement could have been taken in several different ways. 

Klay snapped back into reality when Steph fell back onto his bottom. The smaller man brung his legs up to his chest, and locked his arms around his legs as he pressed his forehead against his kneecaps. 

Klay took the opportunity to stand up and flush the toilet. While silence began to fill up the bathroom, Klay sauntered over to the tub and began to run some luke warm water. It was usually Steph taking care of himself whenever he got sick, being stubborn to let Klay do so much as tuck him into bed, but Klay could tell that Steph was in no shape whatsoever to manage things by himself. Which reminded him that they were going to be in a sold out court at 8 pm. Hopefully his boyfriend can pull through, or Steve can sit him out this time. 

Klay turned the shower on, and exhaled through his mouth. Not trying to backtrack and inhale the smell of vomit that still lingered in the bathroom. 

Klay decided that he’d play his best game tonight. Taking the already-unnecessary weight off of Steph’s shoulders throughout Kevin’s absence. 

When he turned around to help Steph up off of the floor, he noticed that Steph was already stripping off his clothes, looking so fucking tired. He figured that Steph was going to pass out on the floor every time he suddenly became still. 

“Sorry.” Steph’s voice was hoarse, and it surprised Klay to even hear it from how thick the silence was these last five minutes. “Sorry for waking you up, it’s like three in the morning. I just woke up so light headed.” 

“It’s alright babe, don’t even apologize.” Klay spoke up, hoping to not sound too demanding as he sauntered over to his boyfriend and wrapped both of his arms protectively around his waist. Stephen’s skin was fucking burning. Klay’s face drained from all color, leaving him to look pale as he began to feel around his lover’s hot skin. “You’re so sick baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Steph made a familiar sound, and it was something that Klay labeled ‘tiredly disgusted.’ Which signifies that Steph did not liked to be cared or poured over for when he was sick, but Klay did not care. 

**6:15 AM.**

Everyone was huddled out in a professional practice facility in downtown Toronto. Practicing shooting free throws, twos and threes, stretching, playing horse or small 10 minute games all of that. Steph who somewhat slept the rest of the night with Klay was pale, not particularly gaunt but he was not as fresh faced as yesterday. All Klay knew is that Steph was still ill, and they both was rushing to get their clothes on to get onto the bus on time. Only for Steph to hold everyone up by double-having in front of the bus. No - in front of the team and heaving like he was taking his last breaths. 

Klay was scrolling on his twitter just getting done watching a first take video, when Andre suddenly came up to him.

“What’s up with Steph?” He asked Klay, his voice was heavily filtered with concern for his friend, his team captain who was shooting his 25th three pointer in a row.

Klay looked up from his phone, and stared over at Steph who was obviously out of it. Still seeming to splash another three, waiting until another ball came his way for another shot. 

“Sick like I never seen him man. He came in my suite this morning, throwing up all over the place, sneezing and coughing.” 

Andre grimaced, and looked back to where Steph finally missed a three. Watching urgently as Steph put his hands on his hips and ducked his head down, looking as if he was trying to control his breathing. Klay was watching too, more sweat from nervousness this time beginning to formulate on his forehead. 

Andre turned his head back at Klay. “You’d think Coach’ll sit em out during practice.” He scoffed, and shook his head in frustration from the circumstances surrounding them at this moment. “We’re in the middle of the fucking finals man. Unless we’re having another MJ flu game miracle, he needs to rest.” 

“I doubt that Steph even has the flu.” Klay truthfully spoke up, “He was just fine when we was leaving. Hell he even told me that he woke up light headed anyways.” 

“Food poisoning, flu, virus, it doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t be playing.” 

Klay nodded his head in agreement, feeling himself become paranoid about his boyfriend even more. 

“Thompson, Iguodala! Chop, chop. No practice gets you nowhere.” 

Klay stood up from the bench, exchanging looks with Andre as they both were tossed basketball to get to work. 

**9:45 AM**

Steph had his cheek placed in his palm, holding his head up as he stared emotionless at the waffles on his plate. He wore a black long sleeved shirt underneath the sleeveless GSW hoodie, and golden state sweatpants to acknowledge the fact that he was ready for the game even hours ahead. 

Him, Draymond, Klay and Kevon Looney all went to IHop for some actual breakfast. Even though Steph did not entirely agree to go, he only went because Klay was visibly hungry. Plus they needed to talk about their strategy to win this evening anyways so Steph was down for whatever. 

“Steph, you good?” Draymond asked, cutting whatever conversation that was happening all the way off. That was Draymond. When he notices that something is off about somebody he drops everything, and immediately makes that somebody a priority. 

Steph felt Klay’s hand become placed gently on his knee under the table, and he couldn’t help but to smile. “Yeah, I’m just thinking about the game tonight.” He answered back hoarsely. 

Draymond did not buy it though. Kevon only nodded, and began to slice another piece of his waffle to dip in the syrup. “Yesterday don’t mean nothing, don’t worry, we’ll shut them down today. I mean you dropped thirty-four on all of their heads.” 

“Klay got 21.” Draymond added, smiling proudly. “Splash brothers.” 

Klay visibly flushed, which made his boyfriend keen in delight at the blush. “I was out of it. My head wasn’t too into it yesterday.” 

“Don’t even fret about it, we all ——“

It was the last of what Steph heard until everything went groggily, and slurry. He honestly had no idea what was happening, but all he noticed is that he felt so fucking tired. Steph let his eyes close, just for a couple of seconds that’s all he needed. 

Nah, maybe a good five hours. 

“Stephen?” This time it was Klay that called out again, this time adding the ‘en’ which meant that something was wrong. All three men witnessed that Steph was swaying in his seat, and it was likely that he was about to pass out in a fucking Canadian IHOP. 

When Steph opened his eyes, Draymond, Klayand Kevon was hovering over him protectively. You got to be kidding me. Steph felt his chest become heavier, but this time it was sheer anxiousness. He really wanted to play tonight, he felt better than he was feeling at 2 in the morning, he was just tired now but he’s get over it. 

“Alright man, lets go back to the hotel. You need to rest.” Dray said, pulling Steph up by his arm not even offering to, but just doing it automatically. 

“I’m good, I’m fine. I just need to eat.” Steph tried to resist, but once he felt Klay’s hand settle protectively at his hip, he knew that there was no reason into arguing. 

“Lets take him back to my suite.” Klay said, as they all began to venture out of IHop. He prayed under his breath that the media was not watching, that was the last thing they need. 

**2:45 PM**

Klay traced Steph’s cheek and jawline with the tip of his fingers as the older man slept in a deep slumber. As soon as Draymond, Klay and Kevon helped him into the bed Steph was out cold. Literally. The man was shivering violently, and Klay had to wrap him up in a burrito until Steph had broken out into a fever. 

Now, Steph was sleeping shirtless but clothed in the bottom half. No complaints yet. 

Draymond told Steve that Steph was sick, which really did not come to a surprise to everyone since Steph had been relatively not himself the entire day. “At seven we’ll get the team doctor to see how he is, and if he hasn’t gotten any better we can sit him out.” Klay remembered Steve saying in the middle of a meeting in the practice facility. From the look on everyone else’s face, they doubted that Steph would be playing tonight. 

Klay clicked his teeth at the memory, and leaned down to kiss Steph’s cheek. His heart ached at the sound of Steph’s breathing, it was raspy, slow but it was not dangerously labored. Klay would be fretting about him all day if his breathing was that bad. Fuck he hopes that Steph does not conjure up pneumonia in the middle of the Summer. Curse you Canada. 

Klay whipped out his phone, as he got into bed with Steph, an arm somewhat possessively slung around the smaller man’s waist. He got on instagram and began to scroll through some posts, Klay was the not the type to like a post. It just didn’t occur to him to like any, instead he’d only comment on the post and scroll away from it afterwards, completely forgetting to like the post. 

Swiping into his dms, he seen a message sent from Kevin. 

easymoneysniper :  _y’all better take that dub tonight while we still can._

Klay honestly had no clue what the hell that meant. Kevin’s been acting weird this whole season, and it’s not like Klay cared enough to complain but he just felt..weird. This passive aggressiveness that Kevin seems to radiate whenever he’s around both him and Steph would sometimes catch Klay off guard. Or maybe it’s just the free agency that is making Klay paranoid, even though he thinks everything would be just as normal as it already is with or without Kevin. 

klaythompson:  _we’ll try?_

Klay felt like an idiot. 

Graciously, Steph had stirred around in his sleep, coughing and groaning as he subconsciously wrapped his own arm around Klay’s torso. As if he was a fucking teddy bear. Klay remained pliant as Steph snuggled closer to him, eliciting a soft sigh as he got comfortable on Klay’s body. Klay could not help but to squeeze his smaller frame, and try to hold in the ‘you’re so fucking cute baby,’ that was threatening to escape his lips. 

The sight of Steph’s eyelashes sweeping across his smooth cheeks, and the way his golden brown skin would glow from the sun peering through Klay’s windows. Fuck. Even when he’s sick, he made Klay’s life 3x harder just from looking extremely gorgeous in every way possible. 

easymoneysniper:  _mm. anyways. i heard steph is sick or sumn?_

Klay started at the first half of the message in confusion. Did he piss KD off? Gosh, it seems like he always pisses KD off nowadays. Trying to avoid those thoughts, he looked at the other half of the message and sighed before looking down at Steph who slept peacefully-ish. To be honest, he did not know what to type. Whether if he should be specific or not, it was out of his comfort zone to explain things through text because you can not justify the tone of the message. 

klaythompson :  yeah. 

easymoneysniper :  _oh_. 

Yeah, that’s enough of that. Klay swiped out of the dm, and switched accounts from his main page which half of the sports community follows - into a private meme-ish or spam page which only some of his team follows. Draymond, Andre, Steph, Shaun, Andrew, D’Angelo all got meme/spam accounts. It’s funny because they’re all grown men, superstars in the NBA owning instagram accounts that people their age would usually grow out of. 

He tapped into the groupchat they were all in, bombarded by 456 messages that were still ongoing. 

drdrayday :  _i hope steph is good guys. kinda scary seeing him like that._

igloodollah:  _same. he was ab to pass out in practice._

michaelangelo:  _wat m8de da homie sicc?_

drdrayday:  _idk d’angelo i think klay knows_

andrewdonut :  _KLAY GET IN HERE SO WE CAN HEAR ABOUT STEPH_

shawndyingston:  _i don’t think coach is going to let him play_

michaelangelo:  _and i oop-_

igloodollah:  _guess we taking another L lmao_

andrewdonut:  _idc really bc we won last year_

drdrayday:  _i mean.. i want to get as many rings as i can but i also wouldn’t mind seeing canada win a title so it’s a win-win for me lfosjsodkskfgofj_

shawndyingston:  _LMFOCJSDKCISODJ MOOD_

michaelangelo:  _i want a ring :(_

igloodollah:  ^ _same lol i want as many as jordan or kobe_

andrewdonut:  _i think a reason why i’d want us to win is bc they said that KD carries the team whenever he plays with us..._

shawndyingston:  _stop before u get draymond started_

igloodollah:  _SHAUN FUCIDICHDKDCODUD_

drdrayday:  _klay i see you lurking_

Klay felt as if he was suddenly caught spying in on someone showering. Well, he felt like he more or so walked in a girls locker room in the middle of a lot of gossip, but it did not bother Klay whenever they would gossip. It was one of the reasons why the gc was made in the first place, they definitely did not want to risk their accounts being hacked and all of this information leaking out. 

klaythompson:  _idk what to say_

Truthfully, he didn’t. Most likely because the subjects would change so fast, and it was because Klay honestly felt so awkward in this group chat sometimes. He barely talks in real life, so he barely talks in the group chat. If anything, he keeps it on mute. They understand though, thankfully they do,Klay always been like that since he was rookie. Plus, Steph would be the one that would usually give Klay an open ended to add onto but of course, Steph is asleep so he can not type anything. 

andrewdonut:  _what’s up w steph?_

igloodollah: ^ 

drdrayday: ^^

shawndyingston: ^^^

michaelangelo: ^^^^

klaythompson:  _i honestly think he was food poisoned_

**5:56 PM**

Steph was scrolling through the group chat on his phone, eyes heavy and his limbs aching painfully for no reason. He felt affection for his friends blossom in his chest as he read all of the messages that proved that he was their baby. Despite some of the age differences they all shared. Steph always seemed to be the center of their attention, and at first it made him annoyed but he became used to the protection they’ve gave him through the years. 

When it hit 6 o’clock which was usually the time where they all began to have one more practice hour before heading to the Scotiabank Arena, Steph had risen up finally from his nap. 

All he knew is that, he was  not  feeling better at all. If anything, he felt as if he did not get any sleep even though he’d been knocked out since 1 that afternoon. Steph looked around, furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed it was Klay’s suite where he had once again slept in. Fuck, he does not want to take another shower in his boyfriend’s suite, he felt as if he was annoying. 

Steph was sweating as bad as Michael Jordan was during his flu game when he reached his own suite. After opening the door, he immediately crashed onto the cold floor and grunted in pain as his body strike the hard marble. Yeah, that’ll probably leave bruise. Steph laid there until about 6:30, the cold being too inviting when it was pressed against his fever of 103 skin. 

Klay unfortunately, came back from shooting hoops with Draymond and he immediately concluded that Steph was at his own suite when he found out that he was not in his own. Realistically, walking in to find the boyfriend, the love your life, asleep on the floor in front of the door would cause you scream in horror. It was only that, Klay thought Steph was fucking dead because why the fuck is he laying on the floor? 

So, once again, realistically, Klay yanked Steph up in his arms aggressively. Which also woke Steph up immediately, too dizzy to understand what was happening and that Klay was having a breakdown. 

“No! No! No! Baby, Steph, wake up. Please you can’t do this to me. Oh my God please, please, baby open your eyes.” Klay was near tears, which caused Steph to force himself to wake the fuck up and convince Klay that he just passed out which was also not good, but it’s better than him being dead. 

“Klay, Klay I’m right here. Calm down, I’m fine.” Steph immediately said, cupping Klay’s red cheek with hot and somewhat trembling hand due to the persistent fever. 

Fear turned into immediate anger, and Klay crashed their lips together, despite Steph being sick as hell. Klay pulled away, and peppered kisses all over Steph’s face as he held him tightly. “You fucking scared the shit out of me. Why were you on the floor like that? I thought you was-”

“Passed out. I’m still sleepy.” Steph cut him off, and slung his arms around Klay’s neck. “I was about to take a shower and get ready for tonight. I just fainted that’s all.” 

“Steph that’s not good, you’re exhausted, you need to rest.” Nonetheless, Klay pulled him closer, his heart beat continuing to hammer at his rib cage even though Steph was still alive. God what was he thinking? Stephen Curry can not die, he’s fucking immortal. 

Or that’s what Klay tells himself every night, he does not even want to think about the day where he hears about Steph even getting as close to death to being in a coma. 

With that thought he held him impossibly tighter, sighing when he felt Steph kiss neck gently trying to comfort him. “I’ll be fine.” 

**7:30 PM**

Steph was not fine. He swirled his tongue around against the thermometer that was in his mouth, bored and extremely sore, plus very tired. Steph had his eyes closed as he sat in the locker room while everyone was getting into their uniform. He was the only one wearing regular clothes, and it was internally pissing him off that Steve would not let him change until they figure out what he was sick with.

Klay was helping Jacob Evans stretch his leg out due to a cramp that was making it difficult for the shooting guard to walk at times. Although he was helping Jacob, his eyes were locked on Steph who was basically slumped in his chair. He had never seen Steph this tired before, and from the scare he had earlier, this was just making him more paranoid than ever. 

The ‘beep beep, beep beep beep’ seemed to scare Steph to death. He hit the back of his head from jolting it against his locker, and it caused him to wince while bringing his hand to the back of his head. “Shit.” He cursed under his breath.

Everyone but Draymond and Klay laughed at him, which resulted in Steph flicking them off playfully. He withdrew the thermometer from his mouth and prayed silently before looking at it as if it was a pregnancy test.

‘98.9’

Holy shit, his fever broke. A smile formed on his face which had caught everyone’s attention simultaneously.

“It says 98.9.” Steph said, standing up quickly which caused his muscles to protest passionately which made him wince a bit.

“Congratulations, who’s the father?” 

In return, the person that said that was tossed one of Steph’s old towels, one that he did not get to wash, in their face. Steph had then went out to go and show the team doctor, plus the coach who really had a say in this.

Klay felt the need to look at Shaun, Andre, D’Angelo and Draymond. They all had the same expressions of uncertainty coating the expressions on their faces.

**Game 2, NBA Finals 2019.**

Steph was already sweating before the game even started. Hands placed on his knees, droplets of sweat drenching his face and his heart beating from anxiousness because of the fact that this is the NBA finals. He was always nervous before the finals, but he can not tell anyone else that because he’s Stephen Curry.

Before he knew it, Klay already made a 3. 

That reassurance and the small claps coming from the few GSW fans in the crowd was all he needed, and he was locked in.

Not exactly. When both GSW and Toronto were tied at 19, Steph seemed to vanish out of the game to the locker room. Klay could only watch as Steph trotted into the tunnel, head down and face distraught. Fuck, what now? Draymond walked up to Klay, grabbing his shoulder and reminding him that they have a game to finish. They can worry about Steph whenever there is a brief timeout or in halftime.

As harsh as that sounds, even though Draymond is just as worried as Klay is, he nods his head and continues on with the game. That is what Steph would have wanted anyways.

It was around later in the 2nd quarter, which really was not much of a big deal, when Steph got his first field goal. It was much more of a surprise to Klay because Steph had to leave the game for the second time, even more distraught than the first. Klay for a quick second glanced over at Steph, watching as he fell briefly before getting back up and sprinting back. Steph looked like he could do this, that there was nothing to fret about. But at the same time he does not want his boyfriend to overwork himself.

When Steph hit his 2nd field goal, he felt himself loosen up and get locked into the game more.

Stop worrying. He’ll be fine.

**15 minutes || halftime.**

Those were the most hectic minutes of Klay’s life. 

“Coach he keeps fucking vomiting bruh, just sit him out.” D’Angelo spat, fed up with wringing Steph out until he has nothing but a bones in him. Steve gave D’Angelo a dangerous look that screamed, ‘I will trade you if you ever curse at me again’ and the look worked because about several players pulled Russel away to scold him. 

Draymond waited with his arms crossed by the bathroom as Klay cleaned up everything that did not make it into the toilet. Steph was required a random, but unused toothbrush to empty the residue of gunk out of his mouth. “Stephen, you alright man?” Draymond asked once he heard the sound of running of water settle down, the heavy breathing of both Klay and Steph replacing the sound of it. 

“No, but I will be when we finish and win this game.” Steph hoarsely replied, his voice was much deeper than it already waswhich sent a tingle down Klay’s spine. Steph inhaled a much needed breath into his abused lungs, throwing the toothbrush in the trash as he pat his sweaty face with a towel. 

Everyone in the locker room, who had to go through hearing Stephen Curry painfully vomit his guts out, made a face that said a lot of things. 

Klay rolled his eyes as he washed his hands, after hearing someone genuinely ask. “Are we really witnessing another Michael Jordan flu game?”

**12:45 AM**

DeMarcus Cousins finished everything off with a chef’s kiss. The second half was explosive, leaving the court quiet and in disbelief. The only thing really benefiting them with this win is that they’re going fucking home. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Draymond cheered, dapping up everyone once they arrived in the locker room. “Yeah! That’s how we shut down a fucking crowd!” 

Everyone was in good spirits, not really hyper because they had a couple of more games to go for them to spray champagne on one another. Klay was already shirtless, ready to get in the shower when he found Steph. The older man was already finished showering, just haunched over on a bench in the showers with a towel wrapped around his waist. His head was down, and his hands were covering his face as if he was sobbing but Klay would have figured out if he was crying or not. 

Klay felt his heart ache, fuck he looked so tired. So smaller than he already is in basketball terms, all that vomiting visibly made him look more skinnier than he is. Fuck he was probably extremely dehydrated all day, hopefully those waters bottles quenched his thirst during the game. 

“Babe..” Klay gently cooed, walking over towards Steph who seemed to tense up as he heard Klay’s footsteps come closer to him. Klay furrowed his eyebrows as Steph continued to tense up, which made him bring a hand to the older’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t play good enough.” Steph said, removing a hand from his face and using the other to hold his face up still. “Scored like five points.” He sighed, with his eyes closed in discomfort. 

Klay couldn’t help but to feel funny. Five points? Holy shit. Steph wasn’t even counting his shots, and he always counted his points even presenting it by counting on his fingers to boast to the crowd. Klay could not help but to chuckle, and kneeling down in front of Steph to take his smaller hands into his bigger ones. “Babe, you dropped like fucking 21 points on all of their heads.” Klay corrected, brushing his thumb against Steph’s knuckles. 

The way Steph’s eyes lit up a bit, and how a blush went across his rather pale cheeks made Klay’s heart beat faster. Fuck he was so cute. “I did?” Steph asked innocently, “I counted like five points bruh.” He laughed, a laugh that Klay hadn’t heard all day. 

Steph must be feeling better. 

Klay shook his head, and laughed too. “Nah, you dropped the big two-one on their asses.”

When they all showered and gone back to their hotels to pack, Steph continued to work through the aching muscles as he gathered up all of his stuff. Klay waited by the doorway, watching in love as Steph made his bed so the maids would not have to fret over it when they finally left. He did that with every road game. So selfless, even when he is at his worst shape. 

When Steph finally walked over towards Klay, the taller man could not help but to cup Steph’s cheeks and press their lips together with as much affection one could give. It caught Steph by surprise, which caused him to elicit a small gasp at the sudden act of love which came from an unpredictable Klay Thompson. Nonetheless he kissed back, hooking his arm around Klay’s neck and bringing him closer which made Klay groan lewdly into the kiss. Their tongues met each other halfway, and immediately Klay began to assert his dominance whilst Steph strung his fingers through Klay’s curly hair. Shit even when Steph is sick, even when he is sick bruh. 

“Can y’all..not do this when we have a flight?” 

Steph accidentally bit the shit out of Klay’s lips as he pulled away, scared to death from Draymond’s random presence. 

“Shit!” Klay grunted, bringing the tip of his fingers up to his lips and throwing a death glare at Draymond. 

Draymond threw his head back, quacking out his laughs like a hyena as he continued down the hall. Klay and Steph exchanged glances, both of their faces flushed with embarrassment and a mix of arousal. Taking each other’s hands, they began to depart from the hotel suite to go back to the States and prepare for Game 3 of the NBA finals.

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it to the end then holy shit ily thanks for spending your time reading this crap!!  
> pls comment your opinions or like hate or like yeah fodheifhsejf


End file.
